


The Misadventures of Nystela

by Vandera



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Elves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandera/pseuds/Vandera
Summary: How much trouble can one blood elf hunter get into?





	1. Prologue

Nystela Dawnstrider unleashed arrow after arrow into the bodies of the undead Scourge that were marching on Quel’Thalas. Her loyal dragonhawk, Claw, attacked any of the monsters that got too close to her. 

In the confusion of the attack, Nystela’s squad had gotten separated from the main bulk of the rangers, and they were trying to fight their way back. They were going to fight their way back, and they were going to put a stop to this. Quel’Thalas and Silvermoon would not fall.

As they crested a hill, one of the forward scouts screamed. Nystela rushed over to see what her fellow ranger had seen. It shook her to her core. She was not prepared for this. None of them were prepared for this.

Across the field, they could see the march of the Scourge. It was massive, as if there was no end to them. The elven rangers were no match for them and were falling before them. Ranger-General Sylvanas launched herself at the death knight leading the Scourge army.

Nystela felt completely helpless as her commanding officer was cut down in front of her eyes. Screams came from behind Nystela, but before she could turn around, a sharp pain erupted through the back of Nystela’s head and everything went black. The last thing she heard was Claw’s angry screech.  
———————————————————————————————————————————  
When Nystela opened her eyes, she felt confused, dizzy, and her head was throbbing. As she slowly sat up, she noticed a small pool of dried blood where her head had been laying. A head injury, she suspected. 

As she glanced around at her surroundings, a chill went down her spine. The ground, once covered with lush green grass, was now a dark black and seemed to ooze with corruption. Bones littered the ground. The bodies of the members of her squad lay around her, their eyes staring at her in death. Her dragonhawk, Claw, had been ripped apart. Pieces of his body lay scattered around.

Nystela shakily stood to her feet. She turned in the direction of Silvermoon City. She screamed as she saw the destruction and waste that lay before her.


	2. Chapter 2

Nystela bolted awake from her nightmare. No matter how much time had passed, she could never put the day the Scourge attacked out of her mind. Vaguely, she realized that her sister was shaking her.

“Nystela! Wake up!” yelled Evia as she shook her by the shoulders.

“I’m awake! You can stop now,” said Nystela as she brushed her sister’s hands off her.

“You were screaming in your sleep again,” said Evia with a worried expression on her face.

Nystela noted that her sister was already dressed in her mage robes and had pulled her red hair back into a ponytail. By the Sunwell, what time was it?

Nystela pushed her orange hair out of her eyes as she got out of bed. Evia was still standing in her room, watching her. She looked like she wanted to say something.

“Is there something else?” Nystela asked.

“The Ranger General is here to see you. Dad asked me to wake you up,” said Evia as she left the room.

The Ranger General? Nystela’s mind immediately flashed to Sylvanas Windrunner, but she was no longer the Ranger General of Silvermoon. She had met a fate worse than death. Hauldron Brightwing was now their Ranger General.

Nystela shook her head as she got dressed. She glanced in the mirror to check her hair. Glowing green eyes stared back at her. Nystela remembered when her eyes had once been blue.

With the Sunwell’s destruction, many of their people’s eyes had turned green, revealing their addiction to magic. Their Prince, Kael’thas, had returned and renamed them Sin’dorei, blood elves. He had then taken off for Outland to find them help.

Despite all their recent hardship, Nystela knew that she should be grateful that she still had her family. Her parents had even had another child. She could hear two year old Soleria laughing down the hall.

The blood elves had lost a huge portion of their population to the Scourge. Many of the survivors had no one left. Those that did survive, suffered from the Sunwell’s destruction, and were in danger of devolving into the wretched. Once someone became wretched, there was no saving them. The only thing that could be done was to put them out of their misery. Nystela had seen many people that she knew suffer that fate.

Nystela left her room and headed for the parlor. Hauldron Brightwing was there, talking with her father.

“Nystela, it’s always good to see you,” said Hauldron when she entered the room.

“I wish I could say the same,” answered Nystela.

“Nystela!” hissed her father. “Ranger General, I’m sorry. She does know better.”

Hauldron laughed dismissively. “Nystela has always been that way. I would be worried if she started treating me differently. Nystela, can we take a walk? There is something important that I want to discuss with you.”

“If it’s about me rejoining the Farstriders, you are wasting your breath and can leave right now,” said Nystela as she crossed her arms.

“I’ve already given up on that,” conceded Hauldron. “What I need to discuss with you is of much more importance.” Hauldron turned to the door and motioned for her to follow.

Lifting an eyebrow, Nystela followed the Ranger General out the door.

“So, how are things going?” asked Hauldron Brightwing as they walked the streets of Fairbreeze Village.

“What do you want, Hauldron?” demanded Nystela.

“Always right to the point,” Hauldron smiled. “I have a job for you.”

“I told you. I am not coming back to the Farstriders.” Nystela crossed her arms.

“So what are you going to do with your time instead?” Hauldron asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered, shaking her head.

“Well, since you left the Farstriders, I know you haven’t been staying at home. You’ve been going out to the Ghostlands and killing plagued animals. You’ve also been in the Dead Scar, killing Scourge,” said Hauldron.

“Are you spying on me?” demanded Nystela.

“No. Some of the rangers and scouts have seen you. My point is that you have a lot of energy that could be channeled into a productive outlet.”

“What productive outlet did you have in mind?” Nystela asked.

“Have you ever thought about adventuring?” asked Hauldron.

“I had considered it a few times, but my duties had always come first. Now that we’re no longer members of the Alliance, it isn’t exactly feasible or safe to go wandering in the wider world,” said Nystela.

“Things may soon be turning around. Strictly confidential, we are in talks about joining the Horde,” whispered Hauldron.

They had reached the edge of the village where the woods began. Nystela spun around on Brightwing.

“Please tell me that you did not just say that!” she hissed.

Brightwing nodded.

“The Horde! The Horde has orcs and trolls,” she spat.

“We need allies, Nystela. Otherwise, we may find ourselves in worse trouble. Warchief Thrall seems sincere with his offers of help,” explained Hauldron.

“I kill trolls,” said Nystela flatly. She had spent years fighting the Amani.

“The Darkspear are a separate tribe from the Amani,” said Hauldron.

“A troll is a troll.” Nystela shook her head.

They had wandered into the pet cemetery. Nystela stopped at Claw’s grave. After the Scourge attack, she had carefully gathered every piece of him that she could find and had buried him here.

“Sylvanas now leads the Forsaken, and they are members of the Horde. She is pushing for our membership,” explained Hauldron.

“Scourge. They are Scourge,” corrected Nystela.

“The scouts tell me that you have snuck up on Tranquilien several times. You’ve aimed your bow at many of the Forsaken there. Yet, not once have you fired at one of them,” said Hauldron.

Nystela remained silent.

Hauldron continued, “Lor’themar needs a courier to deliver a very sensitive letter to Sylvanas. A courier that we can trust. You have proved your loyalty to Silvermoon hundreds of times over the years. We were hoping that we could rely on you again. It’s for the good of our people.”

“Does he have a brain underneath all that hair?” Nystela muttered as she rolled her eyes.

“We will expect you at the Sunfury Spire in Silvermoon tomorrow, right before sunrise,” said Hauldron, ignoring her comment. “I would suggest that you pack a bag, just in case this job takes you further than the Undercity.” Hauldron turned around and left.

Nystela remained standing at the grave of her beloved pet.

 


End file.
